Say Nothing At All
by Suffering Angel
Summary: No one else could understand them but each other, and even then, what point was there in words?


I don't own KH.

This is my half of an art-trade with deviantart's Mixy-Shiru. Much love

**Say Nothing At All**

To the untrained eye, that day would've seemed like any other lazy day in the peaceful tropical world of Destiny Islands.  
The sun was set high in the middle of the sky, its rays reflecting off the ocean. The waves rose high towards the sky, only to tease the shore with white foam before retreating, leaving behind gifts. The seagulls flew above, noisily watching over the group of humans who made their way to the small island not too far from the shore.  
And the group of teenagers, still very much children despite their ages? They did what they always did on the small island that came to be their playground. Wasted time together, played together, laughed together.  
It was as though a talented artist reached out and painted a beautiful picture, aiming shamelessly at perfection.  
All –

To the untrained eye.

That was undeniably the downside to spending a lifetime next to people – theirs were eagle-eyes, trained and honed to notice the smallest details, the most redundant of gestures, everything one didn't know he needed to hide and wanted the least to have noticed.  
A boy in his teens found that out the hard way that day when almost every one of his friends came, on their own turn, and checked up on him. Each in their own way tried to inquire, to ask, to maybe get a glimpse of what exactly it was that bothered their friend so much. Tried to help, to reassure, to be there for him.

All they ended up doing was reinforce the walls, push him further away. Made him ensure the lid was closed a bit tighter still, that his lip quivered less when he smile, that when his eye twitched, it was called for. He kept his voice steady, not too loud, not too quiet, not too low, not too high.

Everything and anything was completely, utterly, wholly normal – but that was what gave him away the most.

Too calm, too cool, too alright, but what could they do, really, the group thought as they watched the brunette from afar, once he truly was incapable of putting up with them and left to sit on the familiar bent-over Paopu tree. He left them on the beach bellow, contemplating what else they could possibly do, having been shot down repeatedly.

More than anything it proved to be a source of endless frustration for one redheaded Princess who liked to think she was closer to the boy than this. She liked to think he could confide in her, that he could be honest with her...  
The only thing more painful than watching his back like that was to see his forced smile when he told her that really, truly - he was alright.

No.

That wasn't true, she knew as she turned to face the only member of their group who refrained from approaching their friend that day.  
The older teen seemed to stay away from the most of them, as though observing the situation. He waited, for them to succeed, give up – or outright admit defeat, and when they finally did, he finally made his way towards them, his hands as usual in his pockets.  
This was to be the most painful, the girl knew as he came to a stop in front of her, his whole being radiating an air of confidence and calmness. Like he knew they'd fail, and worse still – like he knew he won't.  
And they all knew he was probably right, too.

That was the hardest to do, admitting that by asking for his help. It was redundant, she knew; the two were so close even before they ever met her, but she still felt the need to ask, to urge him to help, to do anything! – but he never let her.  
No sooner did she open her mouth to speak was his hand on her head, and before long he already passed her, not looking back at either her or their other friends.

That was indeed the worst, Kairi concluded as she gritted her teeth, her clenched fingers digging into her palm.  
She wasn't allowed to be part of the solution, even by asking for help...

–

In all honesty, a great part of Riku hoped for the others to be successful. Hoped that somehow, they'd reach him, hoped that somewhere in the brunette's shell, they would've found a crack.

Riku truly hoped Sora wasn't so far gone that the others couldn't help him.

But that was hoping and this was knowing, and the reality of the matter was that Riku was making his way across the beach. He took his time, knowing better than to think rushing over there would change much. If anything, it would only antagonize his friend, further throw him off balance, further upset him.  
Further remind him that two years have passed.

Two years, Riku mused as he slowed his pace even further and looked around him.

Two years.

Some might say the coastline changed and that the waves reached deeper into the land. Some might claim that the greenery retreated due to the teens' constant shenanigans. Some would argue that the Paopu tree was to fall down at this rate.  
But to Riku, the beach he loved to play at ever since he was little looked just the way he remembered it from before. The water still flowed down the waterfall; the birds still flew up above, and the plants were as savage and wild as ever.  
Nothing changed, not really, not even the creaking door or the steps threatening to snap under his feet as he finally climbed up to the small cliff-side.

No, they didn't change, they _couldn't_ have changed. They were the same as ever.

It was Riku who transformed, he knew as he ducked under the makeshift wooden doorpost least he slammed his head into it. He was the one who grew disturbingly taller, whose shoulders were broader. The one with his hair in his eyes and no intention of cutting it any time soon.

He was the one with the callused hands, and not from the task of holding a row or a fishing rod or a net.

The ocean still caressed the shore as it ever did; it was Riku who stopped minding the sound of the waves during the tide.

Riku finally came to a stop at the end of the bridge, eyes fixed on the motionless form of his best friend, settled over the bent-over trunk where he finally found some peace and quiet, some respite.

Such a calm picture, a mundane, familiar setting –

To the untrained eye.

It wasn't the world that changed. It wasn't their friends who changed, either, not even Kairi. But Riku changed, he knew well enough. And as he rounded the tree, moving to a comfortable position on the other side of it, there was one thing clear.

That smile was a bit too detached, those shoulders, a bit tense, on edge. That smile had a touch of tiredness to it, and those eyes made Riku long to see the bright spark that was no longer there, not in full.

Granted, the boy _was_ a master of disguise, of deceit, and he doubted even most of their friends noticed all of this. Then again, Riku's were an expert's eyes.

It's been two years.

It made perfect sense Sora changed too.

–

He lost track of how long they were there, both staying by the other's side, saying nothing.

Riku knew better than to speak.

Speaking meant his words could be twisted, that he'd be giving the other chances to escape. Speaking meant he'd be giving Sora a chance to dig deeper into his shell, and that made sense.

Speaking was _not_ communication. Not in their case, not then.

So Riku kept quiet, even when the sun began to set, and he spotted their friends' boats sail towards the mainland, leaving them alone.

Finally, Riku let himself close his eyes, head tilting ever so lightly forward. He let the breeze tousle his hair and buried his hands deeper into his pockets. He didn't bother thinking about how it was getting late, or how chilly it was getting. Those things were the norm, they were regular; standard.

Unchanged.

None of this found room in Riku's mind as finally, at long last he was proved that at least this much didn't change for them.

He didn't hurry to move but did eventually look up when finally - _finally_ - he felt a hand on his shoulder. The hold was tight and desperate, and there was an undeniable shaking that made the fabric of his shirt almost manage to escape the grip; almost.

He had a good enough of an idea of what he was to find when he looked up even before that choked hiccup was heard, but it made it easier not in the least when he finally did.

He knew there were better days and worse days. Anyone who's been through anything had those. It changed little the fact it was nothing short of excruciating for Riku to stare up at Sora's face then, with his quivering lips struggling to hold onto his smile while the tears streamed down his cheeks, pouring from behind brown bangs.

A tiny sigh left Riku as he took a step closer, and had Sora turn quite the miserable look at him. He on his part offered back a smile, warm smile and spread his arms.

Even if they tried explaining, what was the point, he thought as the smile finally disappeared from Sora's face and he half fell forward, letting Riku stop his fall. The Darkness got to them; that was the one, unchangeable truth. And no amount of explaining could ever express exactly, truly, how it changed them. How it _hurt_ them.

But that was also alright, Riku thought as he tightened his hold around Sora's form. He knew. If no one else in the universe did, at least he knew what Sora was going through.

And that was all he needed to know that the more they changed, the more _they_ stayed the same, and he felt no need for words.

Only reassuring coos and rubbing of back and shared warmth. And that was fine then as Sora eventually uncurled and Riku gave him the decency of wiping his face.

They were both a mess, their clothes tugged at and moist, and either seemed ready to drop. But at long last, as worn out as it was, there was a genuine smile on Sora's face.

The two set out for home then, not once feeling the need to utter even a word.


End file.
